


The Unexpected Savior

by RatMonarch



Category: Vampire: The Masquerade, World of Darkness (Games)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Implied Relationships, M/M, Spying, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:48:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28258731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RatMonarch/pseuds/RatMonarch
Summary: Dante hadn't expected this mission to go this horribly wrong.But he also hadn't expected to be saved by William of all people.
Kudos: 1





	The Unexpected Savior

**Author's Note:**

> All characters are OCs for a Vampire the Masquerade game I am doing with friends. I am simply posting it here for archival purposes.

Dante swallowed as he opened the rusty door to the warehouse with a loud creak, no doubt alerting the person he was meeting with to his presence. 

He scanned the area hurriedly as he stepped in, noting the rusted walls, the dirty cement floor, and the chains lying around. It looked like the perfect setting for a horror movie where the killer would skin his victims alive or hold them hostage to play some fucked up death game. 

Basically, it was the exact type of location he’d expect a Sabbat member to choose. 

‘A suspected Sabbat member,’ Dante reminded himself. Nothing had been confirmed yet. It was Dante’s job to find out whether the rumors circulating about this particular vampire were true or not. 

But seeing as this guy was going around calling himself ‘Blemish’, he didn’t like his chances.

He also left the door ajar… just in case. 

Dante’s job, admittedly, was normally quite easy. All he had to do normally was just listen. He was completely ordinary in appearance and attitude. The kind of vampire no one expected anything out of. So, as a result, bits of information more or less fell into his lap without too much pressure or intervention on his part. The Anarchs were littered with characters like Switchblade, who didn’t know the meaning of the word ‘confidentiality’ and just casually dropped information to random people. 

Dante’s process of gathering information wasn’t even a complicated one. He just listened, occasionally asked a few questions that didn’t seem suspicious, listened some more, and then reported what he heard to either William or Prince Raveena. 

But every now and again, Raveena wanted him to do different missions. More involved missions. Missions that required him to play a character and spy and pry a bit more actively. Dante literally dreaded these, as they tended to be considerably more dangerous than his usual missions. Like, one slip up and he could risk being gutted like a fish kind of dangerous. 

But as scared as these missions made him, he couldn’t exactly refuse Prince Raveena, could he?

So here he was, risking his life by spying on a suspected Sabbat member. 

He couldn’t believe he was actually dealing with anything related to the Sabbat. He remembered feeling baffled when Raveena’s talked to him about the “alleged” Sabbat activity in the area. 

‘The Sabbat?’ he’d thought, ‘Aren’t they supposed to be… well... gone?’

He didn’t know all the gory details of how the Sabbat in Las Vegas got dismantled, but he did know the major ones. 

It all started when Benji, the current Camarilla Hound, sold out the whole Sabbat in exchange for immunity and a place in Camarilla society. With his information, Raveena and some of her most powerful followers were able to infiltrate one of the Sabbat’s largest gatherings. 

To put what happened next in more light terms, let’s just say they “dealt with their problems.” Most of them permanently. And if the rumors were true, it sounded like William was “taking care” of the ones still kicking. Dante shuddered at the mere thought. That was probably a fate worse than death. 

He knew a couple managed to flee with their tails between their legs, but he honestly thought they’d have enough sense in their heads to know not to try again. The Camarilla in Las Vegas was giant and powerful. Couldn’t they figure out they stood no chance against them? Dante understood being determined, but this was just to the point of idiocy. Did they really think the Sabbat could come back?

He supposed he was about to find out through Blemish here. 

He approached the other man, who was giving him a pleasant smile. Or, as pleasant of a smile as he could manage with his face the way it was.

As he got close, Dante tried his best to not stare directly at the horrific scar marring Blemish’s face, but it was hard. It was so prominent. The acid - Tremere acid, he heard - had really done a number on the Toreador’s face. 

Dante had seen acid scars online before, but even those usually had the chance to heal back slightly. This acid though, didn’t allow for that. The right side of Blemish’s face was still red and angry looking, like meat. There were even some parts of his skin that still looked like it was currently melting, like it’d slop to the floor right there and then. 

His right eye looked slightly warped, which made it unsettling to keep eye contact with him. The skin around his eye looked leathery and unsmooth.

Dante could tell from the untainted side of Blemish’s face that the man had once been beautiful, as all Toreadors tended to be. He had long, shoulder-length, voluptuous, shaggy brown hair, pretty doe-brown eyes to go with it, and a perfect complexion on his undamaged side. 

Even his fashion-sense kept up. The coat, shirt, and pants the other man was wearing were quite decorative and stylish in nature. 

It was very apparent that Blemish did his best given the circumstances to be as beautiful as possible. 

And maybe it was Dante’s imagination, but he thought he saw that the other man was unconsciously angling his face so that the unmarred part was more in focus.

It was kind of sad in a way, this man’s desperate attempt to cling to his former beauty. 

Dante supposed the man’s story itself was a sad one. 

He didn’t know every sordid detail, only having heard the story through Camarilla gossips like Phoenix, but he had a pretty good grasp of the whole ordeal.

Blemish wasn’t always known by that name. No, he actually used to be known as Augustine Sato. He had been a higher-up Camarilla member with a lot of connections under his belt, much like big names like Artorius LeRouge. 

However, all of that changed when Sato fell in love with a human. Nothing was really known about this human. Their name, gender, and even what they were like was a complete mystery, and apparently, Prince Raveena wanted to keep it that way. The only thing that was known was that Sato had told the human secrets. Vampire secrets. Camarilla secrets. 

No one knew for sure how the human reacted to all of this information. Phoenix’s version of the story insisted the human freaked out and tried to contact some hunters, which forced Raveena’s hand on the matter. But others insisted that the real story wasn’t so dramatic. Some claimed that the human had simply not believed Sato or accepted the information with grace. Some even claimed the vampire had asked Sato to turn them into a vampire. No one knew if Sato did or not. 

But what was known was the infamous results of this tale.

Raveena and William not only executed the human right in front of Sato, but had also held him down and poured acid on his face right after they had finished his lover off. That was how his face became the mess it was today. 

That punishment had effectively marked the end of Sato’s cushy life in the Camarilla. 

He was effectively ostracized, not just from Camarilla society, but Toreador society as well. 

For members of the Camarilla, no one wanted to associate with a traitor, and for the Toreadors, Sato’s new appearance wasn’t something they wanted marring their community. 

Once this became apparent, Sato disappeared from the public eye for a while. When any Kindred bothered to remember his existence, the assumptions on what happened to him varied. Some claimed Sato had sought refuge with the Anarchs, while others claimed he had left Las Vegas altogether. A few had even speculated that Raveena or William had decided to finish the job and execute Sato in case he became a liability and spilled Camarilla secrets to someone else. 

But when the rumors of a Sabbat member named Blemish, who had a messed up face, began rising up… well… it didn’t take a genius to figure out who it was. 

And now Dante had to deal with him. Great.

But as he looked at Blemish some more now, he couldn’t find himself too afraid. Instead, the emotion he felt was more akin to pity, maybe even a bit of sympathy. 

How could he not? His story was a sad one, and he had been left in a pathetic state. And while Dante couldn’t say he’d fallen in love yet, he certainly knew what it was like to take a liking to a human. Stacey immediately flitted to mind. 

The desire to let slip that he was a vampire wasn’t a foreign one either. Sometimes, for reasons inexplicable to him, he felt the desire to just… tell. Stacey, Leon, anyone, it didn’t really matter.

He didn’t know where that desire came from or why it still existed inside of him. The drive to tell secrets… that seemed like such a human desire. One that should’ve died off when Antonio killed him. But it didn’t. So could he really judge Blemish for acting on feelings he too had?

‘Yes, you can,’ he reminded himself fiercely. ‘As big as your desires are, you always hold back as every good vampire should. The Camarilla rules are clear. You know them and Blemish knew them too. He decided to break the rules knowingly and therefore must suffer the consequences.’

Blemish had left Raveena no choice.

With that in mind, he decided to metaphorically stand his ground. 

Looking solidly at the fellow vampire, he dipped his head and said, “Hello. Are you Blemish?”

Blemish’s pleasant smile didn’t leave his face as he nodded and said, “Yes, I am. Is it fair to assume you are Romeo?”

Dante nodded as well, saying, “Yes, that’s me. It’s nice to meet you.”

Blemish’s smile grew a twitch. “Quite polite, aren’t you? Well, it’s nice to meet you as well.”

The two of them then proceeded to make light small talk for awhile. Dante couldn’t help but feel a tad impatient throughout the whole charade though. These were just formalities. He was here on a mission: to find definitive proof that Blemish was still doing Sabbat activity and report back. Everything else was just a waste of time. 

He just wanted to go home, quite frankly. 

Almost as if sensing his impatience, Blemish said in a lower tone, “As pleasant as this conversation has been, I think it’s time to talk business. You said you were thinking of entering the Sabbat, correct?”

Jackpot.

Forcing his eyes to lighten, he nodded eagerly and said, “Oh yes! I’ve wanted to join the Sabbat for a while now!” 

“Really now? Why is that?” Blemish asked, sounding somewhat bemused. Dante didn’t blame him. The Sabbat was basically gutted at this point. It wasn’t like Dante was asking to join it at its prime. 

So now it was time to craft a convincing story. 

Suddenly looking serious, he began to explain, “You see, my family and I don’t get along very well. Never have and most likely never will. I am a black sheep, really. So much so that it’s to the point where I am essentially ostracized.”

Blemish didn’t say anything to that, so Dante continued, “Naturally, ever since then, I’ve been looking for a place to belong, you could say. The Camarilla was a no-go from the start, with their restrictive laws and judgy nature. Plus, however open-minded Raveena is, I highly doubt she’d let a Giovanni such as myself ever truly belong. I’d probably be treated no better than a Caitiff by Camarilla society.”

This line of conversation got Blemish to react. The other vampire wrinkled his nose and sniffed, “The Camarilla are judgemental creatures for sure. I don’t blame you for being wary of them.” Then gesturing towards his face, he said, “I mean, look what they did to me.” 

A humorless laugh followed the last part. 

Dante nodded, swallowing back the comments forming in his throat. He had a role to play and a defender of the Camarilla was not that role. 

So, putting on a wicked grin instead, he said, “Yeah, and let’s just say, I have a few quibbles with their laws. They’re quite hindering to a vampire’s true nature, in my opinion.”

Part of him honestly expected a creepy grin from Blemish when he said those words. Admittedly, his idea of the Sabbat was a bunch of cartoonishly evil sadists, who enjoyed chaos for chaos’ sake and said cheesy lines like that. But Blemish’s face remained neutral as he questioned, “Okay, then why not join the Anarchs? Why not the Sabbat?”

Dante didn’t allow the question to faze him. Sniffing, he emphatically spat, “Pah! Most Anarchs are not better than the Camarilla! Like they claim they love freedom, but then wring their hands when you say, murder a few humans. Like who cares?”

Again, no reaction. Dante was beginning to wonder if he was playing this up too much. But he maintained his act, figuring he was too far now to give it up. Raising his hands up, he said, “Now, I’m sure there are exceptions to that rule, but you see, the Anarchs don’t have the right power. They’re too much of a mixed bag. I am looking to make a statement.” 

Looking at Blemish seriously, he said, “That’s hopefully where you and the Sabbat come in. I know it’s not as powerful as it once was, but I believe we can rebuild it. Together.”

He gave a placating smile and a hopeful look. 

Blemish looked as if he were deliberating for a moment, and Dante found himself panicking a bit that his improvised speech wasn’t good enough. 

Weren’t the Sabbat desperate for new members? Could they really afford to be picky?

He nearly sagged with relief when Blemish finally nodded and said, “Very well, I will talk about letting you in the Sabbat.”

Dante felt a rush of triumph. Ha! He did it! All he needed to do now was get a meeting place and he could leave the rest to William and Prince Raveena. He hoped the grin on his face looked like one of excitement. 

He was broken out of his revelry by Blemish saying, “But before we do so, there is something I simply must tell you before we start talking details.”

Dante arched an eyebrow, but eventually nodded. What other choice did he have?

Blemish suddenly leaned in very close. So close that Dante could feel his warm breath hit his ear as he whispered the words, “Nice try, rat.”

‘What?’

That was the only coherent thought Dante could get in before suddenly, with truly admirable speed, Blemish suddenly kicked him directly in the stomach.

Dante found himself stumbling backwards, pain exploding in his gut. Any breath he had was effectively knocked out of him. 

He desperately tried to reorient himself, but it was no use. He tumbled to the concrete floor with a pained groan, his mind in a daze. 

Blemish immediately took advantage of this opportunity. Dante let out a strangled noise as he felt himself get kicked directly in the ribs this time. 

As Dante coughed out a few drops of blood, Blemish snapped, “Does Prince Raveena truly think so little of me that she believes I would fall for such a pathetic plot?”

Dante, at this point, was trying to scramble to his feet. He didn’t know how Blemish had figured him out, but what he did know was that this situation was bad. Very, very bad.

When he somehow managed to get to his feet, he darted towards the door. 

He didn’t get very far though before Blemish, with inhuman speed, outran him and roundhouse kicked him directly in the face. 

Dante felt his nose crack and his teeth rattle as he once again fell to the ground, his head bouncing off the floor. He had no doubt without his Fortitude, his head would’ve cracked open like an egg.

Damn it, he forgot Toreadors had Celerity.

His face was exploding with pain, blood dripping from his nose and mouth. Dante groaned and rolled on his back. 

A bad mistake as Blemish immediately planted his foot on Dante’s stomach, digging his heel in as he looked down at him almost in pity. Or was it disappointment? Dante couldn’t tell.

“Hm. And here I thought someone Raveena sent would put up more of a fight,” Blemish sniffed, all while digging his heel into Dante even more, like he was trying to literally squish Dante’s insides out. For all Dante knew, maybe he was.

Through gritted teeth, Dante managed out, “How did you find out about me?”

He’d only joined the Camarilla a year ago, and only worked as an official informant the past couple of months. He thought he was relatively low profile too, as an informant ought to be. So how?

Did the Camarilla have a snitch in its midst?

Blemish actually smiled a little at that. A smug, satisfied thing, like a cat who ate the canary. Crooning, he said, “How quick my fellow Kindred are to forget I was once Camarilla too. Rather high up too.” Face turning serious again, he said, “I have my connections and means of getting information, Dante Giovanni.”

Blemish spat out his name, as if it personally disgusted him, hatred flickering on his face.

That look was quickly replaced, once again, by a smile. This one was a twisted, sadistic grin that promised nothing good was to come for Dante. 

Voice light, Blemish began digging in the pocket of his coat, saying, “During my sleuthing, I happened to hear you have an aversion to these things. Let’s see if that’s true, shall we?”

Then, before Dante could even think of what exactly he was referring to, Blemish tossed something on his chest. 

Dante immediately found himself screaming in agony, as a burning sensation flooded his body. For a moment, Dante was convinced Blemish had thrown acid on him or somehow managed to set him ablaze. It felt like he was being cooked with lava.

But a quick glance down revealed that it was, in fact, a metal crucifix lying on his chest.

Immediately, Dante thrashed to shake the thing off, but Blemish wasn’t allowing it. Diving down, he used his weight to pin Dante, one of his hands holding the crucifix down on his chest, saying, “Ah, ah, ah. Nice try.”

The added pressure Blemish was putting on the crucifix caused it to feel like a heated spear was slowly impaling his body. Dante found himself screaming again, blood tears pricking at the corner of his eyes. 

He continued to scream for a while, Blemish seemingly content with just watching him writhe in agony. 

Eventually, Dante’s throat was too raw to even scream anymore. He just resigned himself to whimpering pathetically instead, twitching with pain. Blemish’s face looked serene at the sight. 

Voice light as ever, Blemish said, “You know, the Sabbat taught me to appreciate the sounds of pain. They’re so different. Unique, beautiful, and honest, all of them.”

Dante didn’t want to listen to this anymore. He attempted to move, but even just the slightest movement of his leg made it feel like bolts of electricity were shooting up his body. Every attempt to move just caused him more agony. 

If Blemish cared about his feeble movements, he certainly didn’t show it. Instead, the other man almost seemed lost in thought, as he confessed, “I didn’t think I’d like the Sabbat as much as I did. But they cared about me. Accepted me, despite what I’d done and what I looked like.” 

His face looked somewhat fond as he soaked himself in the nostalgia of his memories.

Then his face morphed into a frown, the hatred flickering back in his eyes as he said, “So of course, you Camarilla lot took them away from me as well.”

Suddenly, Blemish freed up a hand to punch him directly in the mouth. Dante’s teeth clicked together painfully. As Dante tried to recover from that, Blemish looked at him accusingly and said, “And then you tried to take me down as well.”

Leaning down, he leered, “That will be the last mistake you ever make, Dante Giovanni.”

Suddenly he was digging in his pocket again. He pulled something out and waved it, allowing Dante to get a good look at what it was. 

A red boxcutter. 

As if to confirm that is what it was, Blemish clicked the blade out, the tip glinting in the faint light of the warehouse. 

Shifting so that he was straddling Dante’s sides with his knees, he thoughtfully tapped the switchblade on the ground as he said, “No, I am going to make sure you’re in pain before you die. Hm, but where to start?”

Dante wanted to say something. What exactly, he wasn’t sure. That Blemish didn’t need to do this? That the crucifix was already causing him enough agony? To plead for his life? To promise he wouldn’t tell Prince Raveena and William anything as long as he let him escape with his life?

Well, he didn’t get to find out what panicked words were going to escape his lips before Blemish’s free hand grabbed his jaw with brutal tightness, forcing his mouth open. Dante instinctively tried to close his mouth, but Blemish’s grip wasn’t allowing it. 

Blemish had a deranged look on his face as he said, “I think I’m going to cut out that wicked tongue of yours first. Maybe even carve up that whole entire blabbermouth of yours. Then, once those are gone, I’ll decide what to do about those eyes of yours.”

Dante immediately felt panic take over, especially when Blemish began putting the boxcutter in his mouth, the sharp tip pricking his tongue. 

He tried to thrash, to move his head, to close his mouth, anything to get away from this torture, but it was no use. The crucifix was still making it feel like bolts of pain were shooting through him. Even if he didn’t have that obstacle, Blemish’s weight and grip made any other movement impossible. He couldn’t escape. 

Despair, dread, and terror were all churning in his body as he realized he was going to die here. And then that would be it. There was nothing beyond this. That idea horrified him.

And Blemish wouldn’t be kind about his Final Death. He was going to torture him until Dante was begging for Final Death.

He was going to clamp his eyes shut when something caught his eye behind Blemish. Something was floating towards the two of them. 

For a moment, Dante was sure that it was a hallucination of some kind. That his mind was making something up to try and distract him from what was about to happen. 

But after a few blinks, he realized what he was seeing was indeed real. Something was floating towards them, and moving faster at that.

Blemish must have been following his eyes, because he looked back, a look of confusion on his face. Then, before Dante or Blemish could react, the thing was thrust forward.

Dante heard a disgusting squelching sound and felt something warm spray on his face. He realized almost instantly from the smell that it was blood, hunger stirring in him involuntarily. 

Blemish made a strangled noise, his body jerking. Dante realized with horror that something sharp was protruding out of the Toreador’s chest, right where his heart was. 

It was clear from the way that Blemish’s body was twitching that he was trying to move. However, it seemed the best he could manage was tilting his head down ever so slightly to look at the stake embedded in his chest with a horrified and confused expression on his face.

Dante watched a droplet of blood fall from his mouth and down his chin, before his eyes rolled behind his head and he collapsed forward. 

Dante flinched and groaned in pain again as Blemish fell on top of him, colliding rather painfully with his face. 

He didn’t get to linger on the pain for very long though, as suddenly he felt Blemish’s dead weight being pulled off of him. He looked up in surprise to see William hauling the other vampire off, with seemingly no effort. 

When did William get here? Dante didn’t remember seeing him. He couldn’t recall either Prince Raveena or William saying they would be accompanying him on this mission either… 

He remembered vaguely that Malkavians could use an invisibility move like the Nosferatu. Did William use that just now?

Suddenly, William gave him a harsh look, which snapped him out of his thoughts and caused his blood to freeze instinctually. Not even bothering to hide the contempt in his voice, the Sheriff said, “I knew someone in such a lowly position such as yourself was incapable of handling such a dire mission on your own.”

Dante actually felt a wave of shame wash over him at the older vampire’s words. William was right. If the higher-ranking vampire hadn’t been there to rescue him, Blemish most certainly would’ve killed him. This failure would no doubt hurt his standing with Prince Raveena, which was a sad thought. The idea that he would disappoint her like he was sure so many other vampires did already was not a pleasant one. 

He would have to work ten times harder to prove to her he was worth keeping around.

He must’ve looked pretty wretched because William rolled his eyes and sneered, “Don’t look at me like that. It somehow makes you look even more pathetic.”

Dante watched as William, with surprising strength, lifted Blemish’s prone form up and adjusted him so that the Toreador was slung over his shoulder. Was William always so strong?

He then turned his attention to Dante, and arched an expectant eyebrow. When Dante no doubt met his look with confusion, he demanded, “Well? Aren’t you going to get up?”

Dante winced, suddenly remembering the pain vibrating through his body. Rasping, he managed out, “Can’t.” He nodded down at the crucifix, and immediately regretted doing so, his body shuddering with pain. 

William huffed a breath, as if Dante was making his life harder for no reason. Reaching his foot out, he scraped the crucifix off of him, the thing falling to the floor with a metallic clatter. 

Immediately, the pain subsided and a feeling of relief washed over Dante. It honestly felt like he’d been reborn again. 

“There. Now get to your feet,” William ordered. 

Dante nodded and complied, shakily getting to his feet, like he was a newborn fawn learning how to use his legs for the first time. He quickly realized it wasn’t just his legs shaking though. His whole body was trembling. Whether this was a side effect of prolonged exposure to the crucifix, or just leftover terror from having stared into the eyes of death for a second time, he didn’t know. Maybe it was both?

All he knew was he probably wasn’t impressing William with his display. 

Ducking his head in embarrassment, he mumbled, “Sorry…”

He didn’t know what exactly he was apologizing for. Was it for the fact he could barely stand? For fucking up the whole mission? For being an inconvenience in general? All of the above again? 

Whatever his motivation, he felt like an apology needed to be said. 

“Save your apologies for someone who cares,” William growled. Dante grimaced. He kind of expected that reaction.

Still unsure if he could walk without falling flat on his face, he tried to buy some time so he could steady himself. Glancing at Blemish, he asked slowly, “Is he, um… dead?”

Blemish certainly looked dead, all slumped and unmoving. He knew in fiction, a stake through the heart was definitely a method of finishing a vampire off. 

But his time as a vampire had also taught him that Kindred were unique and diverse, with various strengths and weaknesses, and that fiction didn’t often tell the whole truth. 

William gave him a look of exasperation, “Of course he’s not dead. Kindred rarely die from being staked. Didn’t your family teach you anything?”

Dante once again found himself feeling embarrassed, averting his eyes now in shame. Maybe Antonio or one of the other members of his family had taught him that at one point. But like fuck if he remembered. 

Part of him wanted to ask which vampires couldn’t survive being staked, but something told him asking William more questions about the matter would be a bad idea.

So, instead, he asked, “What do you plan on doing with him?”

“None of your concern, Giovanni,” William said with a note of finality, meaning he wasn’t willing to debate the topic. 

Dante felt like it was his concern, seeing as Blemish had tried to murder him, but he kept his mouth shut, knowing his place.

Dante had an idea what would happen anyways. Either Prince Raveena and William would execute the Toreador for good, or he would become one of William’s prisoners. 

If Dante were in Blemish’s position, he would desperately hope for the former. 

Death by their hands would no doubt be painful, but it would be merciful in comparison to becoming one of William’s toys. 

He didn’t know the gorey details of what William did in his torture rooms. He quite frankly didn’t want to know the gorey details. He thought his family was pretty brutal to some of their victims sometimes, but he had a horrible feeling William would even manage to make his family queasy. Whatever he did certainly seemed to make Phoenix feel sick, and Phoenix was never that bothered by gore. 

Part of him felt pity for Blemish, but it was a pretty small part. The man had to be dealt with. He caused so many problems for the Camarilla and the man nearly tortured him to death. He deserved his fate. 

Finally, Dante managed to take a step, then another, and soon he was able to walk at a slow pace. William walked beside him, lugging Blemish as if he weighed nothing.

As they walked towards the exit, Dante couldn’t help but look at William in admiration.

William must have noticed his stares, because he snapped, “What is it, Giovanni?!”

Normally Dante would’ve jumped out of his skin and apologized, but instead he took the opportunity to bow respectfully, saying, “Thank you for rescuing me.”

A part of Dante was genuinely surprised the Sheriff had. Ever since he joined the Camarilla, he’d always gotten the vibe William hated him. 

In fact, he’d gotten the vibe that William hated basically everyone except Prince Raveena. 

But now, he wasn’t so sure. If William hated him, why save his life? He could’ve let Blemish get rid of him before handling the Toreador himself. Why follow Dante at all if he had no concern about Dante’s well-being? 

Maybe Dante was getting too hopeful, but maybe he was starting to be liked a bit by the Camarilla. Maybe he’d managed to get even the cold and mean William to care about him, even to the most basic degree. 

The thought made him feel immensely happy for some reason, and he had to resist the urge to smile a little. 

And hey, if he could get William of all vampires to warm up to him, who knew where he stood with Raveena, who he thought was much kinder and more much more understanding than William anyways. 

William stared at him for a moment, as if unsure what to say, before shaking his head and saying, “Whatever. Let’s just go, Giovanni.”

Dante nodded and followed William out. 

Next mission, he would do perfect, he swore to himself. 

For both Raveena and William’s sake.


End file.
